by Bolden, Beth
Table of Contents
Title Page
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Beth's Books
About Beth
Copyright
PROLOGUE
Six months ago
“I don’t think we have a choice,” Diego said, hating how bleak he sounded, even though he’d known this was inevitable from the first moment they’d learned Caleb Chance was back. “I think we have to tell him.”
Diego was curled in his favorite chair, and opposite him, Benji was hunched over on the couch, saying nothing, not even making a noise. He just kept turning the glass in his hands around and around, the amber liquid in it catching the light coming in from the enormous living room windows that overlooked the valley.
Diego tried again. “I know Leo’s your best friend, and you want to save him from this, but I don’t think you can. Not now.”
Benji Schmidt wasn’t just Leo’s best friend—he was Diego’s too, and watching Benji agonize over Leo’s reaction hurt more than he’d ever anticipated.
Of course, Diego didn’t feel as strictly platonic as Leo did about their mutual friend and bandmate, but then Diego had been pushing those feelings away for so long it almost felt second nature by now.
Four years during the Star Shadow reign, and then almost six years after. So many years spent denying his feelings; lots of people might have thought Diego was a masochist, but then they hadn’t spent half that time watching Leo and Caleb, two of his closest friends, destroy themselves over a love affair.
Anyone watching that particular cautionary tale would have been wary.
“I tried.” Benji’s voice was muffled as he continued to stare at the glass. “I tried to save him.”
Diego shifted uncomfortably. It had suddenly occurred to him that maybe his first inclination after that disastrous meeting with their lawyers shouldn’t have been to pour them each a glass of whiskey.
He set his own on the glass side table with a noticeable click, but even though Benji hadn’t taken a drink yet, he was still clinging to the liquor like it was a lifeline, not like it was the catalyst of Caleb’s self-destructive spiral.
Ever since that last year of Star Shadow, Diego had developed a complex relationship with alcohol. He couldn’t drink now without thinking of Caleb, cursed to push away the people who loved him the most, and Leo, shouldering all those burdens alone.
But alcohol also seemed to help file away some of his sharper edges—and Benji’s edges too—and God knew they had enough of a fucking mess on their hands without clashing, or God forbid, meshing, those edges together.
“I know you tried. We both tried. Max tried.” Their fifth band member, Max McCloud, wasn’t around because he was currently on tour with another band. Because unlike the rest of them, he’d actually managed to turn his time as Star Shadow’s drummer into an actual musical career. Yeah, it was playing for other bands, but it was still something.
What had the rest of them done?
Leo had wallowed in his misery post-Caleb.
Caleb drank and drank and drank some more.
Benji had listened to some shitty advice and had tried to parlay their pop punk success into a massively awful foray into R&B.
What had Diego done? Nothing. Only one thing worth anything, and the only thing he even cared to remember.
Sometimes it was hard to remember that, five years ago, Star Shadow had been hot shit.
No longer.
“Not hard enough.” Benji finally glanced up, and his eyes were red. He’d been crying.
They’d all tried to help Leo after Caleb had left, but Benji had worked the hardest to shine a light into his best friend’s life, day after day, month after month, year after year. It never helped, but Diego had fallen in love with him all over again, witnessing his selfless determination to reach Leo, no matter how impossible it seemed.
And now? Now they were going to have to go to Leo and tell him that any measure of peace he’d found over these last five years was gone, because Caleb was back, and while he was finally sober, he’d apparently become a sober dick.
“You know what the lawyers said,” Diego said, getting up out of his comfortable seat and going to where his friend sat, miserable and in pain. Not even wallowing in his own pain, which was probably considerable enough, but Leo’s pain.
“I know what they said.” Benji’s voice cracked. “I don’t care.”
Diego reached over and pried the glass out of Benji’s hands and set it aside. Benji didn’t seem to notice it was gone. Replacing the glass with his own hands, Diego intertwined their fingers together and gripped hard. Benji squeezed back and didn’t move.
It was so risky, and definitely over the line that they’d drawn in the sand forever ago and never significantly crossed, but what else was Diego supposed to do? Let Benji suffer alone? When Diego felt the echo of that unbearable pain reflected in his own heart?
“We have to be strong for him.” It was a week since they’d found out about Caleb’s legal threats, and even though Diego had begun the week feeling sure that they’d never have to give in, day after day went by with no good news to be found, and all that certainty had gradually seeped away.
Benji squeezed even harder, and Diego wondered how much pressure it would take for the outer molecules of their skin to simply evaporate until they melded together and became one. He’d wanted it for so long, but he’d never wanted it like this.
“I’m not strong,” Benji admitted in a soft, wretched voice. “Not strong enough.”
Diego’s first and instinctual reaction was to immediately deny it, because he’d never met a person stronger or more determined than Benji. The most loyal friend he could’ve ever asked to have. So loyal he’d kill himself trying to save you. And as far as Diego was concerned, Benji shouldn’t have to sacrifice everything to help Leo; Diego was here, he could help shoulder the burden.
“You’ve always been so strong,” Diego said, “but you don’t have to be strong all the time. Not for me. Not right now.”
Benji’s response was to nearly obliterate that line separating them, and to put his head on Diego’s shoulder, leaning right into him.
“I’d even tell him, if you wanted me to. I could do that for you,” Diego murmured, even though he was pretty sure that Benji would reject the idea.
Instead, Benji’s dark eyes widened, and he looked shell-shocked. “You would do that for me?” he asked slowly.
Would Diego? What wouldn’t Diego do for him? The question wasn’t one that Diego was even sure he wanted answered.
“I’d do anything for you,” Diego said softly, meeting his gaze straight on.
Nine years and that was the closest he’d ever come to admitting to this man how much he loved him. Maybe that hadn’t been so prudent after all; maybe that was just fucking stupid.
Benji’s hand relaxed and just when Diego expected him to pull away, his thumb slipped over Diego’s skin in something nearly like a caress.
It was the electrical shock he needed to remind him that sitting this close together and holding hands was a huge-ass mistake. Diego might have seen his marriage for what it w
as—a horribly misguided attempt to distract himself from how much he wanted Benji—but Benji was still married. He and Sophie seemed pretty happy too, and Diego wasn’t going to let himself get carried away.
Benji was off-limits, like he’d always been. But not as a friend. As a friend, he’d always made Diego feel safe and warm. They’d lived in each other’s pockets during the Star Shadow era, so disagreements were inevitable. But even when they’d fought, Diego had always felt protected with Benji.
Just now, he’d been distracted and upset and almost let them cross over to unprecedented and dangerous territory. Almost because everything that had happened could still be construed as platonic. They were just two very good friends consoling each other because a long-lost friend had returned to make their mutual friend’s existence a living hell.
They were leaning on each other a little more than normal—that was all.
But even when Diego tried to untangle their fingers and pull away, Benji held fast, with the same determination that ruled his entire life.
“Don’t,” he said shortly.
Diego froze.
“Don’t pull away,” Benji continued, pleading, “not now. Not like this.”
Diego didn’t know just what Benji was saying. He was clearly more upset than even Diego had anticipated. Maybe this was about more than just Leo.
“You knew,” Benji was still talking, and Diego scrambled to keep up. “You knew all along. You knew.”
“About Caleb? I didn’t know he’d come back. Frankly, I was sort of hoping he’d stay away.”
Benji shook his head once, with absolute finality. “No,” he said. “About this.” And suddenly, without any warning, he pressed his lips to Diego’s.
It was Diego’s favorite fantasy come to life, living and breathing in front of him—a Benji who truly wanted Diego, wanted him enough to leave all the pretense and denial behind them, one who wanted to embrace the truth and stop hiding and pretending and deflecting.
But he was so shocked that it was finally happening in real life, and right on the heels of the Caleb disaster, that he didn’t respond. Didn’t even catch his breath until Benji was pulling away, a frown on his face.
Diego scrambled. “What are you doing?” he asked, which was probably not only the worst way he could have worded that, it was also the worst possible thing in the world to say.
It completely left out the fact that Diego had been wanting to do that for nine fucking years.
Benji’s face closed over and Diego realized that he definitely should have led with that particular fact first.
“You knew,” Benji said, in a surprisingly hard voice. “You knew. Vicky filed for divorce before she even had Ana. You knew it was a mistake.”
He’d known it was a mistake before he’d even proposed, but Diego wasn’t going to bring ancient history up now. They’d had Ana because of his stupidity, but she wasn’t ever going to be a mistake.
Suddenly it dawned on Diego what Benji was really saying.
“You and Sophie . . .” he said, suitably shocked.
Benji’s sigh was harsh. “I said you knew. And now I know, too. Sophie and I were a mistake.”
“And this?” Diego ventured after what felt like an interminable silence, though it was probably only a few seconds. It hadn’t felt like only a few seconds to his heart.
“I don’t know.” Benji released his hand and stood up, shaking his head. He reached over for the open tumbler of liquor and downed it in a single gulp. “I really do think this might be better coming from you, Diego.”
“I know I offered . . .” Diego hesitated, struggling to keep up with Benji’s rapid-fire subject changes. He still wanted to turn back the last two minutes and say anything else after the kiss. “But Leo is your best friend. You’ve known him the longest. You knew him long before Star Shadow ever existed.”
Benji nodded. “That’s why it’s too hard coming from me. I’ve put too much effort into putting him back together. I can’t . . . I can’t tear him apart again.”
Diego heard loud and clear what Benji couldn’t say; what he was hinting at between the lines. I’m already a mess; can’t you see? Don’t make me destroy my best friend too.
“I’ll tell him,” Diego said. He’d meant what he said before. He’d do anything for Benji.
“Text me later and tell me how it goes.” Benji was already halfway to the door, Diego staring helplessly at him. Whatever had just happened, whatever raw confession Benji had nearly been about to make, he was running from it now.
“Of course I will,” Diego said, but before Benji could answer, the front door was closing behind him.
It was impossible not to be pissed that Benji had run out. Still, it was hard for Diego to blame him entirely, because the first words out of his own mouth had been so fucking stupid.
Diego sat there for a long moment. He didn’t want to get up. He didn’t want to go to Leo’s and break his heart all over again, but he’d promised Benji that he’d do it. Benji believed a promise was ironclad; if LA wasn’t such a shithole, Benji would float through it, shaking on all his deals, not a written contract in sight—trusting and being trusted in return.
Diego was slightly more suspicious of the world, especially of anyone affiliated with the music industry. They’d been fucked over too many times to make him feel any differently.
And now he was going to have to deliver the news to Leo that they were about to get fucked over yet again.
CHAPTER ONE
Six months later
Benji Schmidt had known since he was eight years old that he was going to be a star. The daydreams and the music lessons—piano, and then guitar—had gotten him through the worst of his parents’ divorce, and then transferring to a new school where nobody knew him and nobody liked him.
At ten, he’d met Leo Humphries. The shorter kid had stood in front of Benji’s bullies one day, and despite his much tinier build, had stared them down until they’d ultimately left him and Benji alone. After that, the dream hadn’t exactly changed, but it had evolved. Afterwards, Leo was always an integral part of it.
He and Leo were going to be huge rock stars and they were going to do it together.
How many people could actually say that their childhood fantasy had not only come true, but in lights-flashing, flames-leaping, absolute-fucking-technicolor reality?
Not once, but twice?
Sometimes he wished those bullies could see him now. They’d sure be singing a whole different tune. Benji was sure of that much.
Benji let the last chord of the last song of the Star Shadow reunion tour reverberate through his fingers, the strings on his guitar and deep through him, down to the core. The crowd had been on their feet from the first chord, but the screams were suddenly so deafening, he knew if he looked to his right, Leo would be kissing their bassist, Caleb Chance, again.
He was fucking thrilled for them. After five years of a hellish separation, filled with rehab trip after rehab trip as Caleb had attempted to get sober, and then six months of uncertainty as Leo tried to figure out how to forgive him, they’d finally emerged from all the shit just as in love as they’d been during the first Star Shadow reign.
It hadn’t really felt like Star Shadow again until those two had started fucking again in every dark—and semi-dark—corner.
If Benji looked to his left, he’d see Diego chilling behind his keyboards, smile on his face, eyes alight with the incredible fucking privilege of playing for thousands and thousands of devoted fans. It was a high you couldn’t ever replicate with anything else.
But Benji didn’t look in Diego’s direction because he was afraid of what he’d feel if he did. After their brief and belated kiss six months ago and then absolutely fucking nothing afterwards, despite being together on tour, it was hard not to doubt. After all, if they were destined and fated like Leo and Caleb, wouldn’t they have found a right time to get together over the last nine years?
But even if it never happen
ed, even if Diego’s feelings had finally cooled, Benji could no longer deny that his were alive and well.
Max, their drummer, shouted something incomprehensible, and suddenly Benji was nearly knocked to the ground by his leaping hug. Benji had a few inches on him, but that didn’t matter to Max, who’d jumped on Benji’s back like a spider monkey. And suddenly Diego was there too, eyes alight with joy, pushing back his gorgeous dark hair, and Benji’s heart gave a painfully hopeful thump.
Benji ignored the way his pulse accelerated and slung an arm around Diego’s shoulders. His t-shirt was damp with sweat and Benji could feel the heat radiating through the thin cotton. When would the time be right? Would it ever be right? Would Diego ever be ready? Would he?
But tonight wasn’t just about him and Diego, it was about Star Shadow.
“Yo,” Max yelled practically into Benji’s ear, “get your lovesick asses over here.”
Leo and Caleb sauntered over, and they didn’t even have the nerve to look ashamed. Benji wasn’t sure he blamed them. If he’d ever had the courage to make out with Diego on stage, he’d do it every time he could too.
Frankly, he would take making out just once in the privacy of their green room or their tour bus or even their hotel room. His stomach squirmed at the thought. Leo kept telling him they needed to talk, and they had, but never about what felt really important. Could they do it tonight? Was he finally ready to say it?
He’d asked himself that question a million times over the last nine years. He wasn’t a coward, wasn’t a chicken shit, and could no longer deny what he really wanted. But something kept stopping him, and before, he’d always pushed the block away because he didn’t understand it and assumed he’d deal with it “later.” But later was rapidly becoming a non-possibility and that scared the absolute living shit out of him.
Maybe even more than taking that final inevitable step.
Leo wrapped an arm around Benji’s waist, Caleb nestled into his other side, despite his much taller stature. “You guys ready for one last bow?” he asked.
It was only the last bow of this tour. Star Shadow was officially reuniting. They were recording a new album. It wasn’t anything like the last show during that other disastrous tour. It wasn’t anything like right before Caleb disappeared and stayed missing for five long years.